For years Banana and I have joked about this book I should write: Explorations of Dating in a Modern World. Or, How to Score Yourself the Most Awkward and Bizarre Dates in the History of the Universe. Or even better, How to Guarantee You'll Have (Awesomely) Bad Date Stories to Tell for the Next Decade.
As a twenty-something living in our buzzed up, twitterpated world of social media, I've signed myself up for some random dating scenarios over the past years. Willingly, no less. OK Cupid, E-Harmony, Match.com, It's Just Coffee, Craigslist (which was hands down the creepiest, but not weirdest), MySpace...you name it, I was on it. The results? A random sampling of my most awkward dates ever:
- The Boy I Met on Match.com: A *very* good-looking half-German, half-Colombian adventurer planned a perfectly romantic first date picnic at the Hollywood Forever cemetery's old movie night. Seriously, one of the coolest things to do in L.A. I was smitten until he (1) tried to feed me, and then (2) started crying on the drive home while telling me about the night he spent in jail for public urination.
- The Boy I Met at Work: After going on a few dates with a boy, he stared dreamily into my eyes and told me in all seriousness, "You're so YUMMY." Huh? "You're so freaking YUMMY." Dealbreaker? I think so.
- The Boy I Met on OK Cupid: Wow, OK Cupid boy was HOT. Like, nice muscles (and I'm not even that into muscles). He was adventurous with a shared taste for very spicy chai and all things Argentina. For example, when I told him the above story about The Boy I Met at Work, he responded with "You're so freaking JUMMY" in classic Castellano. Not only that, he was sensitive and empathetic, we could talk for hours, and he made great mixed cds. Amor? Alas, no. Turns out he wasn't born a man.
- The Boy I Met on It's Just Coffee: It's happy hour and we're guzzling Pancho's amazing margaritas in Manhattan Beach during Date #1. I say, "I'm going to give you a personality test"...and he answers the first question (what's your favorite color) with "I don't have one". (Really?) Turns out he didn't, and I drained my marg pretty quickly. Surprisingly there was no Date #2.
(A few disclaimers, here. These experiences aside, I still think online dating can be really fun. And even though I wasn't romantically interested in OK Cupid boy, I asked if he still wanted to hang out as friends (he didn't) because he was a really cool person...I really respect him for figuring out who he is and staying true to himself.)
Monday, July 5, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
Day 183. Phewf!
So, today is the 183rd day of the year, meaning we are literally smack dab in the middle of the year. 182 days behind, 182 days ahead. For one unassuming 24-hour period, we get to settle into, without even knowing it, a pretty neat space of limbo.
It makes me think about what I'm like when in a holding pattern or in a state of uncertainty (and really, i feel like i'm always there as a twenty-something trying to figure out my life)...usually, it's not fabulous: stressed, anxious, over analytical of *everything*. Wait, what's that? I'm getting a new wrinkle??? Gahhhh! You get the point.
But realizing today that we're all in limbo together on Day 183, it's pretty peaceful. And, as cheesy as this may be, it makes me remember that we're all in IT together every day. (Yes, you're getting a new wrinkle, too...See it? Right by your ever-receding hairline.)
P.S. For tips on being zen in even the most uncertain moments, check out Zen Habits, one of my favorite blogs.
It makes me think about what I'm like when in a holding pattern or in a state of uncertainty (and really, i feel like i'm always there as a twenty-something trying to figure out my life)...usually, it's not fabulous: stressed, anxious, over analytical of *everything*. Wait, what's that? I'm getting a new wrinkle??? Gahhhh! You get the point.
But realizing today that we're all in limbo together on Day 183, it's pretty peaceful. And, as cheesy as this may be, it makes me remember that we're all in IT together every day. (Yes, you're getting a new wrinkle, too...See it? Right by your ever-receding hairline.)
P.S. For tips on being zen in even the most uncertain moments, check out Zen Habits, one of my favorite blogs.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Budding and Blooming
Like the purple tulips I saw peeking through the dry, cold ground on my way to work this morning, Bee n' Banana is coming out of hibernation. It's a windy 62 degrees in Bee'n town right now, a cause for celebration, maybe a run by the Esplanade (in shorts!), a chai - make that iced, please.
As I'm basking in the glorious weather taking too many work breaks (because, really, I sit in an office with no windows and this girl is seriously depleted of Vitamin D), I'm getting warnings from people telling me I'm being too optimistic. It's March. In Boston. We'll probably get more snow. Well, to all of you naysayers out there, I'm perfectly happy living in my dream world of permanent sunshine and short shorts and icy concoctions. Go take a nap.
As I'm basking in the glorious weather taking too many work breaks (because, really, I sit in an office with no windows and this girl is seriously depleted of Vitamin D), I'm getting warnings from people telling me I'm being too optimistic. It's March. In Boston. We'll probably get more snow. Well, to all of you naysayers out there, I'm perfectly happy living in my dream world of permanent sunshine and short shorts and icy concoctions. Go take a nap.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Summer in the City
[Friday, July 17, 2009]
Another month, another laptop, another blog post…
I was going to post on July 15th, which would've made it less than a month between postings(!) and is, apparently, National Tapioca Pudding Day (seriously, who comes up with this stuff?). It would've been something in honor of that creamy, lumpy “dessert” that Bee and the rest of the family insisted on making when we were kids. I couldn’t stand the stuff. I mean, maybe, maybe if they’d taken out the clear, chewy balls, it would’ve been edible. Still wouldn’t have been dessert, but edible.
Anyway, Tapioca Pudding Day has come and gone, a reminder of how fleeting--and random-- are the glorious days of summer. And in quintessential Seattle summertime fashion, I spent this evening listening to great live music and drinking cold microbrews under heavenly blue skies at a park just outside the city. Really, it doesn’t get any better than this.
I was pleasantly surprised by the opening band, Blind Pilot—a group of six Northwesterners who apparently had their musical debut on bicycles. How very Portland of them! They had a great folky/pop sound, with strong, unexpected harmonies. An appropriate opener for harmonic genius Andrew Bird. If you haven’t heard it yet, you must give a listen to Andrew Bird’s latest album, Noble Beast. The man only gets better and better, and best live, if you can believe it. He’s got stellar backup from 3 Minneapolis musicians, but he’s really a one-man band, constantly looping complicated violin riffs and whistle solos as he sings and plays guitar. And damn, this guy can whistle. It's like birdsong, pretty and smooth as a well-trained, vibrato-charged tenor.
Bird's lyrics are as unexpected and complicated as his melodies, which grow and expand and hardly follow the conventional formulas of songwriting. As a result, each song, live, unravels or builds or spirals like the best of short stories: by the time the last violin string stops its vibration, you’re in a different place than you were when the first chord struck.
Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for the Decemberists, who had a big fan base, a charged set, and more instruments onstage than , with their predictable melodies and highly-stylized, big-sound-masking-mediocre-musicality, were a bit more like…tapioca pudding. I left before their set was over, feeling more than satisfied by everything--brews, blue skies, and Bird--that came before.
Another month, another laptop, another blog post…
I was going to post on July 15th, which would've made it less than a month between postings(!) and is, apparently, National Tapioca Pudding Day (seriously, who comes up with this stuff?). It would've been something in honor of that creamy, lumpy “dessert” that Bee and the rest of the family insisted on making when we were kids. I couldn’t stand the stuff. I mean, maybe, maybe if they’d taken out the clear, chewy balls, it would’ve been edible. Still wouldn’t have been dessert, but edible.
Anyway, Tapioca Pudding Day has come and gone, a reminder of how fleeting--and random-- are the glorious days of summer. And in quintessential Seattle summertime fashion, I spent this evening listening to great live music and drinking cold microbrews under heavenly blue skies at a park just outside the city. Really, it doesn’t get any better than this.
I was pleasantly surprised by the opening band, Blind Pilot—a group of six Northwesterners who apparently had their musical debut on bicycles. How very Portland of them! They had a great folky/pop sound, with strong, unexpected harmonies. An appropriate opener for harmonic genius Andrew Bird. If you haven’t heard it yet, you must give a listen to Andrew Bird’s latest album, Noble Beast. The man only gets better and better, and best live, if you can believe it. He’s got stellar backup from 3 Minneapolis musicians, but he’s really a one-man band, constantly looping complicated violin riffs and whistle solos as he sings and plays guitar. And damn, this guy can whistle. It's like birdsong, pretty and smooth as a well-trained, vibrato-charged tenor.
Bird's lyrics are as unexpected and complicated as his melodies, which grow and expand and hardly follow the conventional formulas of songwriting. As a result, each song, live, unravels or builds or spirals like the best of short stories: by the time the last violin string stops its vibration, you’re in a different place than you were when the first chord struck.
Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for the Decemberists, who had a big fan base, a charged set, and more instruments onstage than , with their predictable melodies and highly-stylized, big-sound-masking-mediocre-musicality, were a bit more like…tapioca pudding. I left before their set was over, feeling more than satisfied by everything--brews, blue skies, and Bird--that came before.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Bee in the City
Just call me Carrie Bradshaw. I took my second trip to the Big Apple this weekend - a much needed girls weekend combined with an impromptu reunion with some college friends - complete with a little (too much) bubbly, shopping in the hip hipster districts, brunch at a kitchy themed hole in the wall, and magnolia's. If I learned anything from my Sex and the City-a-thons, it's that even the Carrie's of the City get into some I-hate-New-York trouble.
For me, this materialized through a traumatic episode of a cabbie driving off with my luggage in his trunk. Two days, one smelly outfit and a series of frantic phone calls to NYC Taxi Company later, and my bag was returned to me, safe and sound. So I thought. It wasn't until I was in the extremely long standby line for Bolt Bus that I realized. I had my bag and belongings - minus one key item. My relatively new Macbook (in it's hot pink sleeve). Gone. BLEEEP!!!
Turned out to be quite the expensive weekend excursion. I was consoled a bit about my idiocy when I overheard two frantic girls saying that they'd just left their suitcases in their taxi cab, too. I guess I'd found some kindred Carries. Or Bee's. One final word (or plea): to the crazy men in the NYC Taxi Company Garage giving me the run-a-round (you know who you are), you are mean, mean, meanies (yes, pathetic, I know...cut me some slack...I'm emotionally broke).
For me, this materialized through a traumatic episode of a cabbie driving off with my luggage in his trunk. Two days, one smelly outfit and a series of frantic phone calls to NYC Taxi Company later, and my bag was returned to me, safe and sound. So I thought. It wasn't until I was in the extremely long standby line for Bolt Bus that I realized. I had my bag and belongings - minus one key item. My relatively new Macbook (in it's hot pink sleeve). Gone. BLEEEP!!!
Turned out to be quite the expensive weekend excursion. I was consoled a bit about my idiocy when I overheard two frantic girls saying that they'd just left their suitcases in their taxi cab, too. I guess I'd found some kindred Carries. Or Bee's. One final word (or plea): to the crazy men in the NYC Taxi Company Garage giving me the run-a-round (you know who you are), you are mean, mean, meanies (yes, pathetic, I know...cut me some slack...I'm emotionally broke).
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
What Do Women Want?
Ahhh...the age old question. While we can't answer that question in every sense, we can shed light on what travel industry experts are finding about what women want when it comes to combing the globe. In an article on GoNOMAD.com, women-only travel pioneer, Yolanta Barnes, is finding that women are becoming more and more enthralled with the prospect of ADVENTURE. "Girlfriends’ getaways are no longer synonymous with a spa or shopping weekend," Barnes says.
So what do women want? Freedom, according to Barnes. Time to let go and let their hair down, sans makeup, sans responsibilities of the real world. We're right there with ya, sister! Of course, some strappy sandals, a tinto de verano and a hammock would be great, too!
So what do women want? Freedom, according to Barnes. Time to let go and let their hair down, sans makeup, sans responsibilities of the real world. We're right there with ya, sister! Of course, some strappy sandals, a tinto de verano and a hammock would be great, too!
Need Bee 'n Banana Blog. Will Travel.
Bee 'n Banana love to travel: solo. independent. together. as women. We've spent endless hours searching the Internet and paging through guidebooks for advice for globe-trotting chicas. And while the resources are improving when it comes to information for the independent woman traveler, we still feel like they're missing something. Something fabulous, for smart chicks like us.
Traveling as a woman, alone or not, can be a dangerous venture without the tools of solid research, preparation, and an idea of what to expect. As part of our blog, we'd like to be a resource that will enable women who--for work or pleasure, on a budget or no--are seeking to travel, but would like to feel confident about doing so outside the confines of a well-structured tour group. Women who want an authentic abroad experience without feeling threatened, or as if their presence poses a threat to the host country, environmentally or culturally. So, keep an eye out for posts about and links to the best twenty and thirty-something travel information we can find, in addition to other rants and raves.
Take a look around. Use the resources and links. Add some of your own. Leave us comments. Tell us your fabulous I-Am-Woman (or Man) moments.
We're looking forward to the adventures ahead!
Traveling as a woman, alone or not, can be a dangerous venture without the tools of solid research, preparation, and an idea of what to expect. As part of our blog, we'd like to be a resource that will enable women who--for work or pleasure, on a budget or no--are seeking to travel, but would like to feel confident about doing so outside the confines of a well-structured tour group. Women who want an authentic abroad experience without feeling threatened, or as if their presence poses a threat to the host country, environmentally or culturally. So, keep an eye out for posts about and links to the best twenty and thirty-something travel information we can find, in addition to other rants and raves.
Take a look around. Use the resources and links. Add some of your own. Leave us comments. Tell us your fabulous I-Am-Woman (or Man) moments.
We're looking forward to the adventures ahead!
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